" CHAPTER IX. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. Think of those days in Paris. Ireton; for may I be hanged myself if I don't believe he'll be as good as his word. . And, if you'll give me such a smack of your sweet lips, Miss, as you've just given Thames, I'll take myself off in less than no time.
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