“Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. ” Chapter XV A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE Anna looked about her admiringly. \"I don't think so. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence.
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