Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back.
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