” “I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a thundering liar. “What did you say?” “Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered drily. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image.
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