org/license). ” Annabel pulled up her veil. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. “These are for you. She kissed Cathy's soft cheek as she entered the warm kitchen.
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