Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. It has all been a mistake. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. My name is Annabel, not Anna.
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