“Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. " "Be it so!" rejoined Sir Rowland, with concentrated fury; "but before we do part, I am resolved to know the name of your pretended husband!" "Torture shall not wrest it from me," answered his sister, firmly. Promise me that you’ll contact the police if she ever calls you on the phone, or worse, shows up at your school. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered.
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