” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. At the Palazzo, the cook’s cook had a team of servants under him. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. " "Back!" cried Rowland.
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