” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. Wood fancied he recognised. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. " "Think not to delude me, audacious wretch," cried the carpenter. Fascination.
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