There were no mourners. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. Lucy went downstairs to prepare the hot cocoa that would be the last hot drink of the season, ruefully spiking the liquid with Nytol, just one tablet dissolved in a little warm water. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man.
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