"Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her. Please yourself. Leonardo had told her it would happen, and warned her to make use of it. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. ‘This is not love, Marthe.
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