“Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. Very well. "Not my king's," returned Wood. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. How men suffer for the foolish things they do!" "Ay to that. . What was to hinder me, if I had been so inclined, from directing them to your retreat?" "Enough," replied Darrell.
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