Yes, this was a little better. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more. Divide the money between you, and wear the ornaments for my sake.
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