She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. ‘You are wise, Marthe. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. I am Jonathan Wild.
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