9. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. Then she shrugged. “Annabel;” he moaned. " "On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately. " "But you are young!" It was a protest, almost vehement. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that.
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