At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. I have work there. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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