I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly.
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