There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. Accordingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. END OF THE FIRST EPOCH.
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