” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. ” “She is one of them,” Ennison said. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil.
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