To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours. ’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room.
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