His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. “I do want you. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. Her whole face stiffened with suppressed anger.
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