Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. I was afraid of being talked about. He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. I am your very dutiful niece, aunt, and your most devoted sister, Annabel. We’re handfuls. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. It was Annabel’s.
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