Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. I think you’re wrong. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. “How did you find me?” He asked.
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