“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. ” “Bit starchy,” said Ann Veronica, and altered the key abruptly. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. "And the rings?" "Ja. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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