But you are Annabel. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. “I am sure that you are. Anyone else who finds out must be killed, otherwise, you insure death or worse for us. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. I want to stand between you and all the force and vileness of the world.
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