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Anna herself opened the hall door. She said that in the note. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. "Who's there?" cried Rachel. He was silent. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. "So I perceive," replied Jack. "In the mean time, with your permission, I'll just make a few minutes of our conversation. We’ll be somewhere on the floor above.
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