Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. “How are you feeling?” She asked. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. And on Monday and Tuesday she had failed to find him here. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms.
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