All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles.
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