I will never wed you. . ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. Lucy's grin faded. The settlements which he has spoken of, too, are most munificent. "I should never have been what I am, but for you. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him.
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