Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. ” “No, I don’t. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. Take it, I tell you. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast.
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