His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. ‘She may well try to go back. The chief of these was a figure of Liberty, with a cat at her feet, in allusion to the supposed origin of the fortunes of its former founder, Sir Richard Whittington. .
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