She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. She observed a man walking on the opposite side of the way and looking toward her. “You’re exactly as I remember you!” “Forever fifteen, remember?” She stepped closer to him into the light of the television screen. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. "Open the door, I say, or I'll burst it open. Your maid would not be of the least protection. It was the beginning of June. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried.
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