And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. Jackson.
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