From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious.
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