Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous assault. I shall start at the bottom. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. " "Would he had done so!" cried Jack.
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