Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Some of your sex, I mean. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. “I don’t know, John. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing.
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