” Annabel’s hand stole into his. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. Then she called a hansom and drove home.
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