“What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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