She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do so at the hazard of your life.
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