Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me.
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