“Anna!” she repeated. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. Brendon. No one spoke to her. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. Very well.
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