Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God.
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