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Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. ” His fingers touched hers for a moment under the ledge of the box. But I will never—never return. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone.
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