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He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. Wood turned to look at him. ’ ‘Pah! Am I a fool? Have you not this moment past said how he did not?’ Agitation sent her to her feet. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. This also struck her as odd. "Be it as you please," replied Winifred.
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