However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse. " "It matters not what I think," replied Wild. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity.
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