That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. "She may yet be saved.
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