” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. Anna passed serenely out. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr.
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