" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. " "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. I consider even now that the present colour is far less becoming. Though they do, in secret, I believe. Anna crossed the street, and letting herself in at No. He was in a position to help her. Mr. And, turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppard's glance fixed meaningly upon him. ’ A derisive snort greeted this passage.
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