Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. Days later, Sebastian found her by the lake, sobbing. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. ” She shocked him by that. ” “Did I?” she said. ” “It is very nice of you to think of it,” Anna said briskly. You did not learn that in a convent. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign.
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