” The shock of their intellectual attitude was over, usage robbed it of the first quaint effect of deliberate unreason. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Another long interval elapsed. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Don’t stand gawping, man.
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