Perhaps in two or three weeks. We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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