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The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. ‘I should never have told you. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. ’ ‘But I have told you that your capitaine would not like it that you arrest me. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine.
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