She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can. ” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. "I shall go back and finish my supper," said Mrs.
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