But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. “My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. He shuddered. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. I consented.
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