“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. “I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Now, I'll be getting along. Let me put the main question to you now that I could not put the other afternoon. “It really is not necessary. V.
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