After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. . . Well, I don't think they'll any of 'em nab him, that's one comfort.
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