"One last embrace. CHAPTER XXIV. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. He drew an awed breath. . You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers.
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