Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. “Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. It was for ever. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. There will be no avoiding it.
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