And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. “I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus. "If you have contrived to break out of your confinement, villain, this is the last place where you ought to show yourself. His brain reeled. By a sort of instinct. Annabel was in hiding all the time. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility.
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