” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. “She must,” said Mr. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger.
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