You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. She had not even endorsed it. ’ ‘Yes, but they did do so. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. M. Don't feel fussed upon my account. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it.
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