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“Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. Brendon made a quick movement forward. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. At least I can’t talk to them. ’ She drew a heavy breath.
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