I must have something in hand. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. Her voice recalled him. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her. ’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. A woman isn’t much freer—in reality. I’ve—dreads.
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