CHAPTER III. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. . And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult.
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