I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. "I must tell you," she was saying. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. \"I don't want to hurt you. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand.
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