They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years.
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