“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. She also knew that he was the type who would not make a single physical overture until she pushed the correct buttons. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier.
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