Spit of your mother. ” He sat like a man turned to stone. "I am, Charcoal. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. "I had no thought of injuring your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime.
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