White, my landlady, believes his story. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader.
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