6. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. . There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone. F. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. He wouldn't require my aid, but before I stopped Jonathan's mouth, he had ordered him to be doubly-ironed, and constantly watched. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can.
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