“Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. CHAPTER X.
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