The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage certificate. Then he remembered that she was Anna’s sister. Nine years ago, I worked in this very house—had a kind indulgent master, whom I robbed—twice robbed, at your instigation, villain; a mistress, whom you have murdered; a companion, whose friendship I have for ever forfeited; a mother, whose heart I have well-nigh broken. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. However, that’s over and done with. ‘Come, cry a truce.
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