You will be—my wife. To-night we leave for Marseilles. She began to act. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers.
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