Or else he was indeed obsessed. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. That’s all about it. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. It was easy for him to see that she desired to be agreeable to him. “And of course you are my niece just as Annabel is, although I am sorry to learn that your conduct has been much less discreet than hers. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me.
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