“Mom, this is the girl I asked to Prom, Lucy. . " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. ” She commanded him in a low tone. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. I went to the theatre that night.
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