She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. I think not, Annabel. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. Gerald frowned. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse.
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