I never have known you. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. " "There you are, just as I said. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them.
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