Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. And here against a wall were the plumtrees.
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