“Why?” he asked, suavely. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. Corbet Kynaston, then? Sir John Packington's courier was here yesterday. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna.
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