Too close, he reasoned, for safety. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. She had warned him. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. "I don't think that's likely. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. " "That is your fault, none of mine. 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. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling.
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