“No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. If you’ve got anything to say, you must say it to your aunt—” “But look here, daddy!” He flapped the Times at her with an imperious gesture. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of it.
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