Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. Idiote. I shall only pray that I may reward you for all your goodness to me. "He's here. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. She looked in the rear-view mirror. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. "However, I'll refresh your memory. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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