It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. But the orchestra had never had a finer hour, and everyone was aware of it. —'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter. "Come with me to the Castle. “No, no,” she cried. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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