For that matter, my future be damned. See? You marry me. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. You hurt the child. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged.
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