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CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. The executioner shook his head. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. " And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the fore. And listen, John.
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