The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. ” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp.
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