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Wood, in equal trepidation. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. "Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep these devils down.
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