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“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. CHAPTER X. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening. Returning to the audience-chamber, Blueskin had the Jew brought before him. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air.
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