"He's about to cross the river. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. He was all alone, like herself.
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