" "But why? In the name of God, why? Your flesh and blood! Have you never loved anything?" "Are you indeed my daughter's lawful husband?" Enschede countered. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. Stanley changed his key. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine.
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