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I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. ” Annabel shivered a little and looked around her. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. This is a case either of suicide or murder. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. " "You've been misinformed, Sir," interposed Smith.
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