“Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. "My worst fears are realized. Mr. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline.
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