” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. ‘Parbleu, but what a person you make me! One who spies. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. Her anger died and she eyed him. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. A woman cannot change her soul.
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