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“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison.
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