" "You may spare me your compassion, friend," observed Thames; "I am falsely detained. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. He cocked an eyebrow. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt.
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