Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Lucy could sense her mental resolution to nip Michelle’s burgeoning obsession with the occult in the bud. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense.
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