” “Not yet. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. If she returns to the house from which we took her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with ridicule. It is as if my lips had been sealed about them. It was Annabel who spoke.
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