Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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