Let me go, Sir. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Now what I want you to feel is this. Every word you utter puzzles me. You don't want people to snub you later. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. ” “There’s art,” said Ann Veronica, “and writing. ” She stared hard at her finger-nails. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. I want you beyond measure or reckoning. Published by Elizabeth Bailey 2012 www.
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