CHAPTER XVIII. Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. " "Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing away his pipe, which was just finished. The pearls were really yours?" "They were left to me by my mother. “I don’t know. ” She smiled at him.
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