After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. . "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. I think not, Annabel. .
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