After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. " "Go, Sir," rejoined the knight, haughtily. CHAPTER XXII. They were silent for a time. There’s a hansom coming round the corner.
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