. ” And she knew that she was safe. “Annabel;” he moaned. I got myself locked up to cool off. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it.
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