And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. Oh God! pardon me. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. Her faith in human beings revived. I might have known it.
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