The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. “I was sick of the make-believe. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. “My name is Anna Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness.
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