A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. Like the flaws of an old marble. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. “Annabel!” she exclaimed.
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