Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. "You!" cried Jack, scornfully. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. At the Palazzo she had been confined to her own sunny windowed quarters most of the time, but she had the entire run of the inside of the manor. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her.
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