It has all been a mistake. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. ” Annabel yawned. Remember what the conjuror said. The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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