He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Neither their mother nor Sebastian noticed, as certain members of the house had taken to avoiding each other.
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