She swallowed hard. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. Both had lived rather quietly until a scandal had opened up a can of worms for the son, allegations of child abduction, reported sightings of a white van around nearby elementary schools. "'A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Wood, furiously. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough.
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