’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. As to following, there was no one. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity.
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