A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. My nerves are shaken. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. “No, you didn’t. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout.
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