It was Annabel who spoke. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. And I am grateful to you. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another.
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