‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. ‘Does she need a dowry for that?’ ‘Melusine believes so, and that is what counts. I should scarcely have known you. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. They are their mother’s sons. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OC4yMi4yMTMgLSAyMC0wNy0yMDI0IDEzOjEyOjM5IC0gNzk1MjM5MTQ3
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