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. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. ” “It’s Shari’s work. "Don't you perceive, my dear Mrs. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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