“I feel quite sure that Mrs. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. ” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. " "Well, that's fine. They cannot imagine the discomforts involved, and they see only mystery in your fight to recover your lost heritage. You must say farewell to her, for I cannot.
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