And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. I was resolved to see you. Annabel, I cannot believe it. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. Practically all.
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