She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. Lucy knocked again.
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