It was her past now, not Annabel’s. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. I knew it. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. She laid her hand upon his arm. Good riddance. 101 He was a delightful teacher.
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