Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. CHAPTER XXIII. " "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. He was no match for Brendon. "On that night,—in this room,—in your presence, Blueskin,— in yours Mr. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna.
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