“Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. But those days are over—quite over. . We were alike. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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