Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood.
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