‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. "I am your most unhappy son. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said.
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