“Who can tell?” she said. Young noblemen ought to be indulged in their frolics. “John?” He turned around in the recliner. There were shadows under his eyes. It was for ever. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. When you send for me I shall come back. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. gutenberg.
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