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Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. It was too good to be true. We aren’t afraid; we don’t bother. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. You tell me he didn't like the stuff. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. . " "Never fear, Sir," replied Marvel.
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