“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. If you can imagine it, I survived it. When I promised to marry you I thought I could; I thought it was a possible arrangement. The man was my husband. " "And you want me to find a minister?" she asked, with ready comprehension. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. It was the girl.
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