CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. At the Palazzo, the cook’s cook had a team of servants under him.
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