She had a better voice than I, and the rest I suppose is only a trick. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. Annabel entered. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes.
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