She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. And that’s why I’m at your service. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point.
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