The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. His lawful wife; but nothing more; beyond that she was only an idea, a trust. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that.
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