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\"I'm sorry, Larry. Ennison,” she said. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. I stole away and walked to the railway station. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. Mrs. F.
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