McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. "I see. He reached over and took her hand. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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