” She stopped. " "You're not come here to insult me, Mr. Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face.
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