“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief. ” Anna shrugged her shoulders lightly. Too late now. ‘Nevertheless, you will marry me,’ he snarled. ’ His brows rose. Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her.
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