Ah Coom. “Listen to me. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach.
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