. . He looked at her guiltily. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. ” “And you?” Annabel exclaimed. “I’ve broken off my engagement,” she said, in a matter-of-fact tone, and found her heart thumping in her neck.
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