“A serious question. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm.
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