"Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. He shook his head. .
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