Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. This also struck her as odd. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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