Annabel thought, and thought again. On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. “You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book.
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