Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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