" "I see. ” Courtlaw turned abruptly to Brendon. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. My father died a year ago, by the way. Wood. 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. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. He bent over to Anna at once. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished.
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