The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. ” He dared, his nostrils flaring. I——” The door was thrown open. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. Her favor was sought beyond all women’s favors. . “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated.
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