Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. ‘Yes, but I do not know why he should wish to do so, and therefore I cannot permit that he interferes. ‘I knows how to do better nor any surgeon. ” “I suppose,” Anna said, “that those are reasonable deductions. ” “I know.
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