And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure.
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