For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. Her unnatural calm was giving way. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. ” Annabel looked down. ’ For my own part I go about loving. ” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance.
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