“I don’t want you to do it, to go on talking to me. 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. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. F. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused.
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