He did his best not to grin. How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons. Think, ma’am. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. And this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the rogues were really ill.
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