” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. " The Wastrel rushed. I'm his lieutenant,—Lieutenant Blueskin. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. “Very well,” he said. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile.
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