She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "In the hall," replied Charcam. . ” “You have no right at all,” she answered coldly.
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