" "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly. Tell him the truth, Annabel. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. "Taber," said the manager; "Taber is the name. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him.
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