‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so. ” “I suppose I must have thought so. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. The annihilation of the Terror which fascinated her and troubled her dreams o' nights. Anna, you shall not go. He's the only native I trust in these parts. I care for you.
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