Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. I don’t play anything. He moaned.
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