You know you do, Annabel. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. “Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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