She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. ‘So now you may safely cease your roundaboutation, and tell me what took you to Remenham House.
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