’ To be sure there was a way. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. " "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance.
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