“Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. This is not what I want. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. We mustn’t make it so. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition. But you are Annabel. So now I will say nothing more to you, and you will please to say nothing more to me, for I do not reply.
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