" "I'd never set eyes on you again. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. She parted the curtains to find him standing there. Wait a little; rest.
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