Annabel laughed a little uneasily. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. You are too kind. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it.
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