It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. He had no ideas about daughters. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall.
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