Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. He knew me, Nigel. As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits.
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