It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. Lose no time. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. ‘And for you, monsieur le major, it will be well if you do not make me a shock like this again.
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