His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. The weather harmonized with their feelings. It was Annabel’s.
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