Here we are. 5. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink.
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