‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. "Now, let's see who'll dare to take him down," she cried. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity.
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