‘It is nothing. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. And then suddenly—a relief. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. . ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. I’ve made an ally of her champion.
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