The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. A lucky escape. Let me walk you to the door. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. ‘Come, Hilary. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. The ward in which he was confined, was about six yards in length, and three in width, and in height, might be about twelve feet.
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