Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times.
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