"Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. By the middle of July he was in full health. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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