“You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Above her head was an aura of white fire. But I’m going to-day. Go and prepare for our departure. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. As sure as you're sitting there, Mr. Now what I want you to feel is this. “I don’t know why.
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