" "I'll not forget it. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg.
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