“She’s my wife,” the man muttered. " She rose. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. ’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed.
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