” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. CHAPTER XXVI. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. He turned back at once. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well.
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