“Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Nuns, I mean. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. ” He dared, his nostrils flaring. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. "And now to dispose of our dead.
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