"Not a syllable," replied Wild. . The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. The Reaper is not sated yet. My name is Annabel, not Anna. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. CHAPTER XXXI.
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