There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. But that did not stop Trodger, who had ridden up from Kent for the purpose, from detailing every little inspection and sortie that his men had made in their allotted task of watching Remenham House. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up.
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