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] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. Annabel shook her head. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. ’ ‘But he’s a major of militia, miss. It was enough. ” She eyed him scornfully. Wood, softening her asperity.

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