"I'm sorry, Mr. E. ” She stopped with an air of interrogation. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made.
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