"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. Conscious of Mrs. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing.
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