” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. Martha was quite right. But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door.
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