She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. “You vixen!” said Mr. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. Nigel Ennison, Annabel. But we must not anticipate the course of events.
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