" "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. ” “And you?” Annabel exclaimed.
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