She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.
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