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” The redness in his face betrayed him. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. Unlocking a cupboard, he then took out some cold meat and other viands, with a flask of wine, and a bottle of brandy, and began to eat and drink voraciously. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. ” Annabel pulled down her veil to hide the tears. There it is. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent.
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