” Annabel shivered a little and looked around her. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. “Thought so. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. “You might have given me a chance, anyway. Not a scar but has its history. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. ’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow.
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