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The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. “Well,” she achieved at last. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. Half the rooms empty. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. ” She awoke out of a doze, as though she had never been sleeping. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup.
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