” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. I was visiting the royal family, as they sought me for a tutor for their sons over the summer. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. “Child!” he cried. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. E.
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