Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. Others are smart but fall prey to emotional damage, the female lunar instinct of cunning that goes awry. “Please forgive me.
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