He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. “I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. They were Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my only relative. Water I need. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him.
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