He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. " "How long will you be here?" "To-morrow night. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom.
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