‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. " CHAPTER XIII. I just want him, and no one else will do. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. “Annabel;” he moaned. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. Probably a sick man's whim. Very well. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. E. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. Just as I might have killed another, if he had come out.
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