Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. 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. “Mere sensuality.
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