“I don’t think she will,” she said. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. All its better points were improved, while the less attractive ones (and they were few in comparison) were subdued, or removed.
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