" "Perhaps I read of it somewhere. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. . Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched.
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