’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not.
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