" "To make him forget the knock?" "Precisely. \"How's it going, Lucy?\" She turned. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him.
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