There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. "I'm your dupe no longer. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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