“It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. Horrible doubts assailed her. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. She fidgeted and looked away. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide.
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