Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. " "Not before I have conducted your child thither," retorted Jonathan, with a withering look. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. Do you hear?" "I do, Sir," replied Austin respectfully.
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