"Don't ask me about it now. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. "Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had recovered his natural audacity. “Come this way,” he said. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. The villagers were thronging to church. " "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed.
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