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Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. . “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. “We suspect that Mary is alive, and we think she will try to contact you if she ever tracks you down. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound.
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