” She replied. ’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully. You have to marry me. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. Meysey Hill—never your wife. You must say farewell to her, for I cannot. There is a small yewtree west of the church.
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