Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. And at the sight something leaped within her. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced.
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