Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. You promise me you’ll never grow old, you hear?” “I promise. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her.
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