Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. For a space he rode the whirligig. Love anywhere.
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