“Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. You must—you shall be mine. CHAPTER XXIII.
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