Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. As soon as Jack gained his legs, he perceived Blueskin lying, as he thought, dead in the plantation, with a severe cut across his temples, and while he was stooping to assist him, he heard groans at a little distance. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address.
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