"Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. More than ever a sense of confusion was upon Ennison.
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