Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. " "Let me have them. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. That’s got his nerves to rags. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them.
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