"Take me, then," replied the widow. . When she awoke, her husband held her hand as 31 Sebastianus urged her to drink weak wine. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Quite ordinary. If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask.
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