I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you.
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