“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow.
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