‘You are the one that I have met in London. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. I knew where I would go next: Florence. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. And though I say it that shouldn't say it, no man can tie a better knot. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it.
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