Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said.
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