However, to cut a long matter short, my proposal's this: —I've taken a fancy to your bantling, and, as I've no son of my own, if it meets with your concurrence and that of Mrs. ” Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister had simply revelled in her indiscretions. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream.
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