He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. I should have thought my note cleared up everything.
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