“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. " "That's but a short distance from here, sir. “But I am at singing-pitch. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies.
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