” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment.
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