Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. I wasn’t. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan.
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