. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. . “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. . I forget.
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