’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. That really settles about that. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. .
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