You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. “It’s something that bothers me. You know you do, Annabel. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order.
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