" "Jonathan Wild was my husband's bitterest enemy," said Mrs. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. Her whole face stiffened with suppressed anger. Rhea commanded her. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind.
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