” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. "I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. " "I might have been able to do that if you hadn't told me … she cared. It slipped out—as did that “she”. Thanks. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Profoundly.
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