“I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. “Let me help you,” he begged. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. “But if you had?” she said.
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