“It is concerning—our future relations,” Sir John pronounced ponderously. He certainly bore inspection. It brought no coconut. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room.
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