Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word. Keep your eye upon the lad. "Who took it thence?" "Thames Darrell; the boy at your side. “I shan’t eat him. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard.
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