Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. You do not need me to remind you of your success at Paris. “Lucy Albert. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap.
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