" "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. ‘Bon. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. ” “Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared.
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