Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. The chair was torture.
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