“God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. It’s these damned novels. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it. It is positively hateful to think of it. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief.
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