“Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. You’re all dependents—all of you. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. Right now my heart is occupied. That was what she was trying to make him understand. ” She brought her knees up to her chest, and rocked back and forth like a small child. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. He was really very bright and clever, with a sort of conversational boldness that was just within the limits of permissible daring. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. I'll tell you what. To compare me to a starving pig.
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