” “You have nothing to tell me?” “Nothing!” So Annabel departed with the slightest of farewells, wearing a thick travelling veil, and sitting far back in the corner of a closed carriage. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. They blinded me. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes.
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