” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. She is, in her way, a dear. 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. The work itself was refreshingly tonal, Sebastian observed. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose.
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