“The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. . ’ ‘Ah, that is good,’ sighed the lady. The situation bothered him considerably. . ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. It is no problem.
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