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” Chapter II THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL The man spoke mercilessly, incisively, as a surgeon. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. ” Ogilvy reflected. ” After all, it was not so easy. Knew something was up. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. She leaves town to-morrow. All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted from his subject matter. She was nude and horribly maimed. I don’t believe any one could have traced us here. "I did all for the best, as I'll explain.
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