” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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