“Don’t be childish, Annabel. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. "Come, then," said Wild, marching towards the door, "we've no time to lose. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness.
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