” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. “How fortunate I am, Miss Pellissier! All day I have been hoping that I might run across you. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. ” There was a moment’s silence. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour.
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