Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. Even in her hatred, she began to realize that Sebastian’s intelligence was much greater than Gianfrancesco’s. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. " "Can't we break it off?" replied Mrs. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door.
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