Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. “Anna! Thank God I have found you at last. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. As though accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own.
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