” Lucy put her hand to her heart and pulled one of her kinky curls straight. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak.
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