“I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. " "Readily. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. I don't think. "One of us has got to die," he panted. That’s the fact of the matter. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped.
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