“Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. “I refuse. I'll see. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. But if only you will come I do not care.
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