Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible.
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