I had two slices. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. ” “Coarse?” said Capes, “We’re not coarse. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. I tell you what, Mr. Her mind went on generalizing. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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