"A little, Sir," replied the executioner, with a grim smile. “I am sick of it. The place to which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance was a fraud. . Courtlaw sat with folded arms. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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