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“No! I want to do without that. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. “He broke up with Katy Pfister last night on the phone, from what I hear. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely.

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