“How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. “I’ve been,” she said, “forbidden to come. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. I’ve made up my mind. She will cry for days and nights together. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation.
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