The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. “If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier.
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