Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. That boy," he added, looking at Thames, "has his eye upon us. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. I don't threaten idly, as you know.
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