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A familiar figure was making his way towards them. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. Why don’t you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?” “You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation.
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