Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. CHAPTER XII. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. " By this time, the chair had been brought into the Lodge. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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