Annabel had been here then. Stanley, and was so evidently pleased that Ann Veronica’s heart smote her. F. Suppose he stopped all her allowance, made it imperative that she should either stay ineffectually resentful at home or earn a living for herself at once. She stared. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. “There’s twenty before you, and Mr. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. ” “You can’t be killed?” He asked. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously. F. “FAIL!” she said. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere.
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