They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. " "All right. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. I hate what I am. He has had brain fever since, and, as you say, I am more like what you were then than you yourself are now. Mrs.
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