It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ” “Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. ’ Melusine frowned, placing her hand on the letter lying on the table. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor.
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