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Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. " "Jack," replied Thames, greatly moved, "I wish I could devise any means of brightening your own dark prospects. " The attendant did not understand him. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. Melusine approached with caution and sat warily at one end, looking up at him expectantly. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. " "I hope not," replied Wild.
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