Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. "You don't say so!" replied Mrs. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her.
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