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The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. “That sounds quite absurd,” she answered. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. 2.
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