You have to marry me. ‘You’re only making things worse, you little idiot. " Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a supposition for a single moment. . She was pensive and thoughtful. We were going at a mad pace. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. We’ll find a way to survive. ” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. Easily I could have killed you. CHAPTER XXXI.
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