Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. They had heard nothing, seen nothing. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small.
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