“Please stay,” she said briefly. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. "Because—because I'm always distrustful of a priest," rejoined Jonathan.
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