The opiate has done its duty. “I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. The ring's yours, and you're mine. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments.
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