” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy. This way, my dear—and— you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. It might prove rewarding. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming.
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