The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. “Take off your tunic. We don’t want things to happen. You are my wife now and you belong to me. Gerald watched its approach with vague interest, which quickened when he saw that it was drawing up outside the very house out of which he had just stepped. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then.
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