“Let’s go. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. . Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other.
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