She had killed the McCloskeys after they had witnessed her making a kill. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. Here are their letters. Yon must be mine to-night.
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