“Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. “I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. He closed the door. " "Then I wish you good night. "Promise me that. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. "I believe he is conscious," she answered. I don’t care. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live.
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