The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Would you like me to take one for you?\" \"Nah. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. "I thought it best that you should imagine him. “Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked.
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