"Who are the others?" "Let me see. ” “They were my posters,” Annabel said. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. At last he could bear it no longer. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all.
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