Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. “For instance?” She smiled. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. ‘I can see why you lost your place, young Kimble. They sold him the whisky.
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