’ Roding’s voice changed. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. If he wished, he could even take this inheritance from her. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. I am suspected of having shot the man. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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