” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying.
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