Mr. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. The militia offered little in the way of relief. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. . There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly.
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