He donned his winter coat. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. Gerald was instantly on the alert.
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