The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. Annabel, I was lying. ” “No, mine.
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