Wood carved the ducks; Mr. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively.
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