Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. The major’s hand stilled.
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