“I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. ” “He probably does not know of the relationship,” Annabel remarked. “It is no good playing a game. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp.
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