” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. " "Look at it, then," said Wild, giving him the portfolio. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation.
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