His eyes were bright with the hunt. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. But I mean to have them.
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