She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. “Call me Annabel. Go back at once, please. She leaned back in her chair. I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion.
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