A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. Don't you see they're putting on their cloaks?" "That's false!" rejoined Marvel, in a low tone; "I perceive what has taken place. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room.
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