When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. I love some one else. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. “It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart.
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