” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. James’ Park?” Anna nodded, and made a careful selection from a dish of quails. It was wonderful. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order.
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