Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek.
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