” Part 9 She was sitting brooding over her fire about ten o’clock that night when a sealed and registered envelope was brought up to her. “But you do not know,” she whispered, “whether I am a married woman or not. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. She drew her naked arms around herself. “Will he live?” The doctor shook his head. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all.
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