With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Tell him the truth, Annabel. M. With this view, he suffered him to pass on. I might add that in any case I should not touch Sir John’s. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell.
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