” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. ” He replied cheerfully. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Besides, you cannot visit people armed with a pistol in London, you know. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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