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” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. ” “No, don’t say that. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. It got on my nerves—the women I saw.
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