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A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. “I do. ” The man’s face was dark with passion. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. But the cases were not identical.
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