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If I let you believe I did not love you, and they found me, your shame would be negligible. But why didn't you let me know they were coming. Twenty guineas, mind. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. How can you protect me? Moreover, it is stealing that you have done, and therefore—’ ‘Don’t tell me you expect me to arrest myself again. " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood.
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