” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. Promise me one thing before I leave you. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted.
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