He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. "I'm not going to get rid of you just yet. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated.
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