“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. He closed the door.
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