It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. "And I," muttered Jack. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. “And me.
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