A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. ” “They know you better,” he declared. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. ” “Then I was never married to him at all?” Annabel said. The less she lived, in fact, the better. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound.
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