After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. The inn was a military haunt. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image.
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