She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot.
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