She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. About two weeks ago. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. I know who hits hardest. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. . .
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