Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. It was a mad half-hour. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried.
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