“I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword.
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