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CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. It was the beginning and the end of the transaction. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting.
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