” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. ” Lucy begged. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. "Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf.
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