He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. It was for ever. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. It comes to this—am I to be trusted to take care of myself, or am I not?” “To judge from this proposal of yours, I should say not. You have been burning paper, I see. Monsieur is going inside perhaps?” But Sir John’s eyes were still riveted upon the poster, and his heart was beating with unaccustomed force.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI5LjE5NS4xMTIgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDIzOjA2OjI4IC0gMjA1MTc4NTE1OA==
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