He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. He must preserve it, however, as they preserved the Ark of the Covenant. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. "She has fallen into the villain's hands. . ” “Oh no he doesn’t. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted.
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