” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can.
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