You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. I can never be grateful enough. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. ” He said. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword.
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