Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. I—I hurt myself. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. ‘I’ve had enough of this.
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