Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. I have only one question to ask you. ” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. 2. ” “Not quite so easily as it explains an insect alighting on colored paper. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness.
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