Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited for news. Let—it—fall. It’s no half reform either. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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