” She said. Are you satisfied?’ Grudgingly, Jack Kimble took back the coins. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL.
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