Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. "Your assistants are in my power. I didn’t believe him and I said so. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. She held out her arms to him and smiled. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. CHAPTER VIII. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. ‘Of course.
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