‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. . ‘Do not be foolish. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. ” He stared at her incredulously, and she laughed very softly. “You will have some tea?” she asked. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for.
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