“Good-bye,” he said earnestly. She hesitated. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan.
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