Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat.
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