Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. “What you have done. And Capes had changed into the easiest and jolliest companion in the world. She let out a delighted laugh. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. ‘C’est ridicule. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon.
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