Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately.
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