"A miserly old woman. His eyes never left her face. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. Jack's mouth was coarse and large; Darrell's small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty.
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