"I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. "More than three hundred weight, Sir," replied the man. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel.
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