. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. . Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. She had behaved in every way perfectly. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword.
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