I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Spurling: "I blush for you, Sir! To call yourself a man, and interfere with the natural course of affection! Have you no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear? Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows? I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is. She could not part with dignity. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name.
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