That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky.
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