But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. ” She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her was a thing very much to be desired. She was rash and ignorant, absolutely inexperienced. “You have been very kind to me,” she said. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. Smith will tell you I'm misinformed, also, on that point. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. Annabel was in hiding all the time.
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