" Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. Footman or some such. We'll come back for that by and by, and the dressing-gown. Sorry. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. ” He laughed. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. .
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