A sense of impending disaster was upon him. I had to ask Mr. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there. I spent my fair share of time in the closet. Take, if you please, your own pistol. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed.
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