"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. ” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. "By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an instant.
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