She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Under the circumstances you must permit me to be the best judge of the identity of the young lady who did me the honour, as an old family friend, of dining with me. Look at me. “Leave them!” He yelled.
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