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There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. . There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. “I will be off,” she declared. ‘I will not, if you will assure me that an imbecile is a better marriage prospect than a starving pig. " With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly.
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