She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. But, rather than be the cause of any further misunderstanding between you and my benefactor, I will leave London and its neighbourhood for ever. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. I felt—I felt living in a masked world.
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