He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. Poor little one. She is in Wild's power. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously.
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