” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion. This was enough for the poor widow. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it.
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