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Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. But the survey was satisfactory, and she found herself presently in Room No. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. “Child!” he cried.

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