‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it.
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