He stood still, almost breathless. ‘And I am thinking now that you may be very suitable. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. If she could have held it in, perhaps the Virgin Mary would have sent her a miracle as reward for her strength. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. His little doll. Eight per cent. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. I just wanted a breath of air. They were silent for a time. Recovery impossible.
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