Ennison?” “He spoke to me, thinking that I was you,” Anna answered. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know.
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