“Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head.
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