" "Man, she's your wife!" "And I am a thief. It slipped out—as did that “she”. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. “She has been to my flat before. But I may yet live to thwart them.
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