Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. " Thus urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud lamentation. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly.
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