As the body was borne to the house in the arms of the farming-men, Mr. “Why not?” He asked. Fancying they were alone, Sir Rowland threw aside his cloak, and produced a heavy bag of money, which he flung upon the table; and, when Wild had feasted his greedy eyes sufficiently upon its golden contents, he handed him a pocketbook filled with notes. My name is Annabel, not Anna.
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