. CHAPTER XVII. “My dear Anna,” he answered. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. Marry, come up! I'll show him what an injured wife can do. But just now there is nothing which you or anybody can do. ‘Well, that depends.
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