She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. Wood brought up. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. Come, mon ami, come!’ Ever faithful, Kimble dragged himself into a sitting position, gasping at the pain this caused him.
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