Miss Mary to the life. To disillusion her, forthwith. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd.
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