It was her past now, not Annabel’s. 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. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. " "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. Not since she had discovered it had Ruth touched or opened the mission Bible; but to-night (the same upon which the wonderful manuscripts started on their long and circuitous voyage to America) she was inexplicably drawn to it. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. ‘I have the means to compel you. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed.
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