“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. On one side of the handbill a print of the reigning sovereign, Anne, had been pinned over the portrait of William the Third, whose aquiline nose, keen eyes, and luxuriant wig, were just visible above the diadem of the queen. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place. That’s why I come to tell you. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. " She paused. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring.
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