She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Mr. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. And, also, she wanted to borrow that money. He was not used to not getting his way. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. He smiled tenderly. I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders.
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