Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Anna went out. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. " "Nonsense," returned Jonathan gruffly. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. I’ve no name for it yet. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said.
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