“Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are, wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the customs of any time. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters. " "True, and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives.
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