“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others. CHAPTER XVII.
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