With some difficulty, they managed to negotiate the passage with their burden and carry him out into the library. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. "I forgot. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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