John Sheppard. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. I have been in torment all the while to know whether it was to Anna or to Annabel that you were making love so charmingly. But one of these days everything will click back into place. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane.
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