The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. "Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that.
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