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Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. " "I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack. Earles strode into the waiting-room. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago.
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