“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. If he ran less risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed off, or stifled. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door.
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