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"I don't exactly know the rights of that affair," rejoined Griffin, with some curiosity. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. She shuddered. Annabel, I was lying. "With your friends, dear Mrs. I should have gone mad without it. I want to leave it for ever. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. .
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