A day will come when you will thank me. "Gone," replied the wounded man. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. Despite him, it was the beauty that she had inherited from her mother they had used to gain the betrothal, and it had not been easy. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. You can live just about how you like.
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