” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. His fingers closed upon her hand. God, we suck. “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. One cannot trust any man at all. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped.
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