“Annabel?” he exclaimed. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. "Heard of your escapes. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. . ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off.
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