’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance.
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