They agreed that they must marry at once, this morning, before the doctor could suspect what was toward. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. One learns to sit up. The pistol was lowered slightly. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. She would have to leave very soon. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing.
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