But you are Annabel. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. She entered the last room, his bedroom. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request.
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