Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. Their poor hands!” “I know,” said Mr. Just. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna.
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