“Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. Annabel had been here then. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. "Keep a sharp look out, Bess.
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