“Well,” she admitted. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely.
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