“You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. There is no poison that would affect her. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man.
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