"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me. " "Let me have them.
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