Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. ’ Melusine’s eyes narrowed and she drew back. Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter.
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