She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. CHAPTER IV. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. “Splendid it must be to be a composer. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. Besides, it is all reversed now, you know. "I shall state my suspicions to the governor. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered.
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