’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her.
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