So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. Felix Hospital,” he said. “I want to have no distractions.
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