He drew a little breath and stepped back. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. She paused. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire.
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