She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. "Amazement!" cried Wild. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash.
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