She felt like a dried-up old woman. She always left the table when they began to smoke. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. ” Courtlaw was alarmed at the man’s pallor.
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