“You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. To—to find myself. "That's an incorrigible rascal," he added, as Sheppard closed the door; "it's only to-day that I discovered—" "What?" asked Jackson, pricking up his ears. . Let this be a caution to you in future—with whom, and about what you deal. .
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