He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. “Annabel Pellissier is known to most of us. See paragraph 1. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers.
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