He turned to Mrs. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. ” He relapsed into a stony silence. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. He would pick a random member of the ever-shifting household for the sake of example. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. ” She swept out of the room. "I mean what I say," replied Jonathan.
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