“I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. I am a murderer. Say something. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. "You want me, then?" she said.
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