He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Certainly as soon as I have found my right place at Remenham House, I must find out everything. —There, Mr.
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