Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. His face fell. "While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. . It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it.
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