Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. Those were dreams. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. "The poor young man!" she said.
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