Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. ‘The major will tell you when to stop. I am the cause of his ill-usage. " Meanwhile, the party at the table continued drinking and chatting as merrily as before. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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