‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. Besides, she will do no such thing. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Think how free that leaves me to follow things up! I must take you everywhere.
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