Annabel laughed a little uneasily. “What the devil are you doing star-gazing here?” Ennison looked at him in surprise. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue.
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