” “I suppose so. I cannot explain beyond that. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. . . She pushed. Trenchard was tempted to examine the contents of some of these cases, but a closer inspection made him recoil from them in disgust.
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