It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. Wood, softening her asperity. He's settling an account in the house. Now, the reward?" "I have but an ill-furnished purse. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. "Why? Because I love her! Because I loved her at the start, but was too big a fool to know it!" His own astonishment was quite equal to McClintock's.
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