“Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. . Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. “And, you know, you’re altering us all.
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