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‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. The panel in the bookcase. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. *** START: FULL LICENSE *** THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at http://gutenberg. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. There’s a hansom coming round the corner. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled.
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