Earles declared. She took his hand in hers. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. Miss Annabel is her sister. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. What more could any reasonable man— especially a watchman—desire? Besides, the Marquis, is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend of mine.
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