168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. "I must tell you," she was saying.
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