“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. ’ Melusine threw her hands in the air. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. It has been purchased by blood!" "What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag. “You have forgotten.
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