A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. ” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. What was the fellow about? Was he being imposed upon? He watched as the man Valade turned back, spreading his hands in the French way. You'll be wasting his time. “Don’t be childish, Annabel.
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