” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies.
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