Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. "Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. And lunged once more. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. I have—run away.
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