” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. Neither he nor Gerald chose to attire themselves in full military rig on fashionable occasions such as this. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse.
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