F. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. She felt she had to go on. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold.
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