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His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. . You are necessary to me. But you are Annabel. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. "I had to give in to him. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity.
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