The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. . "I can, and will. I went off to round up his wife. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement.
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