I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee presently. ” “You have not told me yet,” Annabel said, “how it is that you have dared to personate me. For all that, it is folly. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder alluded to in the description of her as a child,—but that was the only drawback to her beauty.
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