. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Good-bye, Anna!” Annabel sprang up. 5. “Unbelievable.
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