” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner.
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