I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. You can if you will. They ought to put a lamp. You will be—my wife. " "Are you sure of that," inquired Jackson. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. ” He shrugged his shoulders. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. There was—a service. She might even forgive him.
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