“If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. "Tush!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, angrily. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Moments are ages now. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. Annabel shook her head. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door.
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