And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. I followed you home on the train. ” Annabel rose to her feet. You complain of a condition, but you leave the correction to someone else. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. He appeared to thunder dire happenings if she did not obey him without further ado. Annabel thought, and thought again.
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