“Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. ’ The sword was released to slide back into its scabbard. “Hello, Gwen!” said Ann Veronica, trying to put every one at their ease.
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