In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. Marvel, who, as he had helped to deprive her of her former husbands, thought himself in duty bound to offer to supply their place. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. You must—you shall be mine. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years.
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