Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. Cathy sighed. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? I think we're about the same size. "You are my prisoner. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. He stopped abruptly. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his.
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