Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. \" That again. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. Suddenly he understood what had happened. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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