There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom.
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