Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. You will be under the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat that child for what she is —an innocent angel—I promise to hunt you across the wide world and kill you with bare hands.
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