She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. “Read this, John. Not at all. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Don't be afraid. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. I had no idea. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over.
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