Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. ‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. Independently of other risks, and of the chance of breaking his neck in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads he should have to break open six of the strongest doors of the prison. So here is your chance, Mademoiselle Charvill. I was his wife. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up.
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