” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. ” He did not appear to require any answer to his question. He was a philosopher. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look.
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