It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. "I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school.
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