” Diane purred. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. ” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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