He’s—He lives in a world of possibilities outside your imagination. ” “He imposed on me,” Annabel continued. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. I must obey. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time.
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