Earles that I was ‘Alcide,’” Anna remarked quietly. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Get on with it, then. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. She’s as stubborn as the proverbial mule, and—’ with a sigh that felt wrenched out of him ‘—utterly captivating.
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