At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. You are—horrible. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. ” “As long as you remain under my roof—” he began, and paused.
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