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” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. You see, it's like this.
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