Anna leaned back with half closed eyes. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece.
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