Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, but on the other hand, there was no lingering. A quick flush stained her cheeks. "Did you write it?" "No. Not up here, I think. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. ‘So are you.
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