He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. . The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. ” Annabel pulled down her veil to hide the tears. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses.
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