You wore a blue dress with your hair unbound, and never had I seen a maid so glorious with eyes so blue or a smile so bright. It was as if he could smell it on her. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. “I hope that Mr. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. CHAPTER III. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America.
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