A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. “No!” he said aloud at last. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked.
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