Mr. ā Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. ā She shook her fist ceilingward. . Perhaps I am still mad. I do not wish to blow off a head, you understand. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. Iād rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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