The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. “It was the night you left Paris. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. Ah, and put him under if he wakes up. His hand flew across the paper.
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