” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. ‘Hates doing the pretty. “Lucy! Where is my daughter? Where have you. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley.
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