The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. She was fine and tender. you walking home?\" 3 She paused, stunned. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp.
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