” “There was no need for such heroism,” Annabel said coldly. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty.
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