“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. He took Diane out. The bridge was open. She was like an angel with one wing.
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