A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. . ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. ‘You do not say, “I am a gentleman born. "That gown is getting shabby. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. He remained talking with her however. CHAPTER III.
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