"I yield to fate. You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. After great exertions on both parts, the spike yielded to their combined strength, and snapped suddenly off. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight.
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