It was Annabel’s. “I changed my last shilling yesterday. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted.
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