“Your mother was a Gypsy. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. Well, I am Nigel Ennison’s sister!” “Oh!” Anna said. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. A sinister thought edged in. . "He who stands on the verge of the grave, as I do, should never be unprepared.
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