\" \"Wow. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. . Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. Creeping stealthily up stairs, unmasking a dark lantern, and glancing into each room as he passed, he was startled in one of them by the appearance of Mrs. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. If the boy did not love the girl, why the devil had he dragged her into this marriage? Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly—as the brain always acts when confronted by a perplexing riddle. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. I mystify you; I can see that.
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