She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. " "Then I must wait a long time," grumbled Blueskin.
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