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The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. ” Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. She wondered if the second part would overcome his objections? Several times the words had rushed to her tongue, to find her tongue paralysed. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug.

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