’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. And for my part, if I were inclined to exercise my benevolence at all, it should be in favour of some more deserving object than that whining, hypocritical Magdalene. Old saltwater was right. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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