She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. . “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. "I guessed from your dress and manner, Sir, that you must have been long absent from your own country," said Kneebone; "and now I'm convinced of it, or you wouldn't have asked that question.
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