Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. Which is also puzzling. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door.
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