" He patted her hand. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ” Annabel saw Ennison first, and noticing his single companion calmly ignored him. “If I do,” he said. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. I have strength enough to drag myself there, and I do not want to return. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back.
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