‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. Let me go, Sir. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood.
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