“I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. You will be—my wife. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. “She”, you say. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Her eyes flashed.
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