And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. Now, he had achieved them, and felt assured of success. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. I need not counsel you to avoid those fatal courses which have placed you in such fearful jeopardy. ‘She is a maid only, and I do not believe she has married Emile. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused.
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