It was cheating, pitiful cheating. ” He said. It was locked. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ” With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. ’ ‘Have no fear. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers.
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