” She shivered. "Crime upon crime. Maggot. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. His literary instincts were reviving. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. His voice now had lost its ironies.
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