He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. . She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol.
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