“Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. “You mustn’t say anything more to your mother, Michelle. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. Ennison!” He released her. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle. Something seemed awry.
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