He shook his head all the time. Noiselessly, his booted feet stepping with careful restraint, he started forward, signalling to Roding to follow. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance.
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