Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. “La belle ‘Alcide,’ wasn’t it? Annabel Pellissier was her real name. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it.
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