“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. She added extra chocolate powder to disguise the bitterness of the pill.
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