F. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. Her heels made contact with Rhea’s knees and hobbled her with a crack. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you. I swear to you, solemnly swear to you, I will save your son's life, nay more, will befriend him, will place him out of the reach of his enemies, if you consent to become my wife. "Do you know this picture?" he added, with another significant look, and pointing to the miniature. "You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned the other, with a grim smile.
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