From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. He pulled away. She looked steadfastly out. ’ ‘And your precious vicomte didn’t wish for the English one,’ said Charvill, acid in his voice. He told her something about music, the great world outside. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. Annabel had been here then.
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