The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. He had deliberately saved it for last. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. “Reuben, come here. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. I didn’t believe him and I said so. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. No girl with a face like that…. I do—with all my heart.
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