‘I wish you joy of the wench. "Auntie?" he cried. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. You will forgive my remarking, Anna, that I consider there is a great change in your manner towards me and your general deportment since our marriage. You sent back my Christmas checks. I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face.
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