“You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers. You can, too, if you wish. Lucy entered the room. You get the idea. " Broken pipes littered the floor, if that can be said to be littered, which, in the first instance, was a mass of squalor and filth.
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