She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. "You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. ‘Come, cry a truce. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. Annabel had been here then. 1. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me.
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