Spurling," said Jonathan, who overheard the whisper, "you owe your situation to me. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. get in. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Sit down, I command you. .
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