“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. "Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention. I want to put myself into your hands. “Was I that bad?” He asked. " "Have you told her?" "Told her? Told her what?" Spurlock sat straight in his chair. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would.
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