Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. “Cheer up, Annabel. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. And of course! She had a brilliant idea. I think not, Annabel.
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