And, by way of checking his housekeeper's familiarity, he pointed significantly to the table. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. It was Annabel’s. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. .
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