" Sir Rowland bit his lips to repress the answer that rose to them. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. She was very pretty. His face was white. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Let me take the satchel, sir. ” Sheila scolded, but Lucy had invented a dozen reasons why she had to have her own hamper until finally Sheila got tired of it and relented.
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