In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. Mr. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked.
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