“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. It’s my other side of the moon. We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. The policy of this step was immediately apparent. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes.
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