Annabel entered. . " "It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box. . . Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. Gladstone would have to a carelessly displayed interior on a dissecting-room table.
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