It was eleven o'clock. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. ” “You are not yourself to-night, Courtlaw,” Ennison said. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. “For Heaven’s sake, Dunster, don’t let her out of the carriage, or hansom, or whatever she came in. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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