The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. I’ll do it. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment.
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