"Then, the story of his death was false. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. dear. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. This was enough for the poor widow. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. ’ She inclined her head, looking up at him through her lashes, and passing a tongue lightly over her lips.
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