‘You were his daughter. And I want you for myself—for my wife. The door leaned inward. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. “Not possible.
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