See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. It was hard to meet that gaze.
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