There is no poison that would affect her. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests.
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