The Night-Cellar XVIII. ” The redness in his face betrayed him. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. ” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. ” He seemed bored. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. ” “You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. Splendidly.
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