” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. " Spurlock lowered his voice. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. ” “In Paris, I think,” Ennison answered. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat.
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