Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. But the world didn’t do that. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. " "To-morrow will be too late," said Sheppard, moodily. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice.
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