Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. Capes. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt.
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