” “The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Unless they remind him now and then not to. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. And then, there would be the question of money. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. But your cracked skull is by no means a pleasing spectacle.
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