Here again instinct guided her. "What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully.
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