“Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. Strike the gag, Blueskin. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. No— no, it must never be. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably.
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