"What does Mr. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. He had heard this talk before. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. We’ll find a way to survive. But most of all, I wanted to love. Innumerable little puzzles were instantly solved. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. Capes came back into her mind. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. There would be no moon.
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