’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms.
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