” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. “I will not be drawn into a conversation with Mr. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. Earles declared. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two.
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