She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. " Which was literally the truth. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. We may be stopped. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm.
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