” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection. PITT, the keeper of Newgate. ‘Ah, bah, it is enough,’ she cried, and turning, ran out of the room. “Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth talking about.
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