I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. “You do not even know what you are talking about. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. I wish that it worked. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. A creeping numbness invaded her. "I had to give in to him.
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