His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. This woman knows me—’ throwing the remark at Lucilla ‘—and that I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood.
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