“You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. I have the right also to throw you out. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. “Who on earth did you study violin with?” Michelle jumped in. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla.
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