“What are you doing?” “Nothing. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. He'll settle it bravely. Teddy Widgett hovered on the fringe of all these gatherings, blinking at Ann Veronica and occasionally making a wildly friendly dash at her, and carrying her and Miss Miniver off to drink cocoa with a choice diversity of other youthful and congenial Fabians after the meetings. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. And not only did these tentacular generalizations gather all the facts of natural history and comparative anatomy together, but they seemed always stretching out further and further into a world of interests that lay altogether outside their legitimate bounds.
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