When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. It was her past now, not Annabel’s.
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