“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. But I dare not accept it. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. .
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