If you were ten years younger, you'd have me wondering. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. "Do not go near him, mother," cried Jack; "do not believe him. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. I thought it would be magnificent to have a great house in Paris, and more money than any other woman.
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