They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. " CHAPTER VI. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it.
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