Then he put the paper by. . You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald. I will dedicate my books to you. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. "Do you know this picture?" he added, with another significant look, and pointing to the miniature. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. ’ Fresh suspicion kindled in his breast. You were never married at all.
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