"Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. "My plan is a very simple one," rejoined the thief-taker smiling bitterly.
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