I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. ‘Mademoiselle. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. Good riddance.
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