She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. “I hope you have not come for that. It is one of God’s laws that a woman may defend her honour, even with the shedding of blood. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjY3LjE5NSAtIDAzLTA2LTIwMjQgMDU6NDg6NTUgLSAxOTAwNTEyNDA3
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