Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. They WERE weird. “I won’t give you a check though—Yes, I will. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth.
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