’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. ‘He prayeth best who loveth best—all things both great and small. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. You're luck. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. For a time Spurlock did not move. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. Finally she fell into reflection.
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