Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. Even in death, Vorsack was not a man. You don’t have to live forever to understand that. It was Annabel’s. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us.
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