“Why should one pretend?” she whispered. Heliers. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. He drove it into her missionary style, and though he was worried about hurting her, he could not stop himself from thrusting into her deeply. Get nothing out of me.
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