This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. " "It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, ruefully. ” Annabel looked at him curiously. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived.
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