The stranger with a bow returned to his table. “Please don’t,” she said. \" He piped up. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face.
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