Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. "The feeling is dead within my breast. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. " "They're lifting her out of the carriage," interposed Charcam; "will it please your honour to send for some advice and the chaplain?" "Fly for both," returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of bitter anguish.
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