CHAPTER XVIII. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. dear. Love!” He held her arm and abandoned it again at her quick defensive movement. ” “I don’t think it makes a rap of difference, except for one thing. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. You will also become a very rich man, though I wish that the circumstances had been different.
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