’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. I was afraid of being talked about. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. “But I don’t see,” said Ann Veronica, “just how it fits the present situation. “Soon enough, John. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly.
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