Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. Annabel thought, and thought again. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me.
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