Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. “You will have some tea?” she asked. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. " "Probably Mr. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. "Very well, Mr. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex.
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