By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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