Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. She had had two days of employment-seeking now. ’ ‘Married?’ ‘I did mention Madame Valade, did I not?’ At that, a growl of startling ferocity escaped her lips. You understand what I mean. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. " This placard was adorned with a rude wood-cut, representing the unhappy malefactor at the place of execution. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. Her steps slowed.
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