"Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. ” Annabel looked at him curiously. "That depends upon you. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. I like such interviews. "Where are the boys?" "In the hall. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. She threw him his car keys. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. "Where are you going?" she asked.
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