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” He fancied that she was yielding, but her eyes fell once more upon that fatal envelope, and her tone when she spoke was colder than ever. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde.
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