“If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. Wood scarcely knew where he was. "I'm sorry for old Newgate that another jail should have it. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter.
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