She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. . Her confession was still unmade. Her eye met his four inches away, and his was glaring, immense, and full of resolution, a stupendous monster of an eye. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. You are my wife now and you belong to me. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure.
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