She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together.
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